Until the Credits Roll
by goodnight-sammy
Summary: After the phone call with his brother ends things just go down hill for Sam Winchester. He's off trying to pick a hemisphere until Lucifer launches him five years into the future. And then Sam runs into his brother, and things get worse. (Or in which Sam was the one sent to the future in 5x04 ' The End ' instead of Dean) Rated T for Language
1. Chapter 1: Jumping Fences

Chapter 1: Jumping Fences

AN: Hey guys, I'm finally back with an all new story! It's basically just what would happen in 5x04 "The End" if Sam had been the one sent to the future instead of Dean. I hope you enjoy!

-GNS-

Sam glanced down at the phone clutched in his shaking fist, before throwing it onto the floor the car. He returned his spare hand to the steering wheel, white knuckled grip and all. Headlights flashed past him, momentarily blinding him.

"Bye Sam."

Dean's words echoed back to him as a constant reminder of how much he had failed. He started the friggen apocalypse and now Lucifer was supposed to wear him to the prom. Dean was pissed. Told him to pick a hemisphere with the tone that meant there was no going back, and all Sam could think about was how this was all his fault. _He_ was the monster here. _He_ was the one who broke the world. Who would expect to be forgiven for something like that?

And yet Sam refused to believe that someday, he would say yes to that son of a bitch who wanted to end the world. It was gonna be someday soon too, if you wanted to believe what was coming out of the devil's mouth.

Sam tried to evade sleep that night. Partly to avoid the torment Lucifer was sure to bring as soon as Sam decided to close his eyes, and partly to avoid the much more human nightmares he's been having ever since Dean had come back from Hell. He failed spectacularly, however, pulling over his trash car in some abandoned truck stop for a few moments of rest.

When he woke up, things were different.

This became much clearer, however when he stepped out of the car for a closer look. It didn't last long. For one, the truck stop that had been merely run down and abandoned, was reduced to rubble. Broken glass littered the parking lot and not a soul passed by on the once busy highway. One thing did stick out, though. And that was the bright red "croatoan" painted on one of the walls that was still standing.

"Shit," hissed Sam under his breath.

Quickly, he hopped back into the car, and shut the door with as click. He leaned over and began rummaging around in the mess that was covering the coffee stained floor, in search for the cell phone he abandoned there the night before. "C'mon, c'mon…" Sam mumbled, as he flipped it open and began looking for a signal. There wasn't one. He turned the key, put the car into drive, and hit the gas.

An hour out of Sioux Falls, and the Devil showed up in the passenger seat. He lounged back with his feet up on the dash board. The car swerved when Sam jumped. "What are you doing here?" Sam growled, keeping his eyes straight ahead as he tried to focus on the sunset in the distance and not the monster next to him.

"Hello to you too, Sam." Lucifer deadpanned, "you know, I always feel so welcomed when I show up for our little talks."

"Where am I, or when? None of this is…" Sam started, gritting his teeth.

"About… five years north of o-nine, I would say." The devil sighed. "I just wanted you to see something. The inevitable outcome of you saying the almighty 'yes', for starters."

"I will _never_ say yes to you," Sam growled, turning to glare at the fallen angel in the seat next to him. Defiance shone in his eyes.

"But Sam," He purred, "you already have."

When Sam blinked, he wasn't at Bobby's house, or anywhere near it either. In fact, Sam had no clue where he was. What he did know, however, was that he was on the side of the road, backed up against a giant, wire fence. When he heard voices in the distance, coupled with much nearer footsteps, Sam ducked for cover in the darkness.

When the noise dissipated, Sam slowly came out of hiding. Through the fence he could see an all too familiar car, now in pieces like much of the rest of this broken world. The only thought that went through Sam's head however, was that Dean must be nearby. Well, he hoped he was, but considering the Impala's condition, it was much more likely that Dean was dead.

Jumping the fence wasn't the hard part, he'd jumped enough fences in his lifetime to be able to do it quickly and smoothly. What would be the hard part, however, was not being heard, or seen, with people definitely close by. Because if the devil was telling the truth, in this world, Sam wasn't _Sam_ , anymore.

He waited for a few seconds to judge if the coast was clear, and when everything seemed kosher, he pulled himself up and over. Sam landed on the other side with a dull thud. Slowly, he approached the Impala, running a hand over its hood before leaning down to check out the interior.

Behind Sam was a huff of breath, and then the click of a pistol being cocked.

"It ain't the Colt," came a voice Sam would be able to pick out of a line up, "but it will sure give you one hell of a headache." Sam wasn't sure if he'd ever been happier to have gun on him in all of his life, because that meant his brother was alive, that he was okay.

"Dean," Sam choacked out, slowly raising up his hands, his back still facing his brother. "It's m-"

"Don't you dare say my name like you're _him_. You have no right," Dean cut in.

That was the last thing Sam heard, before it all went black.


	2. Chapter 2: Blind Rage

Chapter 2: Blind Rage

AN:1 I know this came around three hours after the first chapter, but don't expect that to happen all the time. I just thought the first chapter was a little slow, and you guys deserved a little more than what I gave you. So here it is, chapter two. I hope you enjoy, and don't forget to R&R.

-GNS-

Sam's head is pounding when he comes to. The room is spinning and he has and ache in his back from how he fell forward in the chair he was chained to. He's hand cuffed to each arm rest and his ankles are shackled to the legs of the chair. Dean is cleaning his guns at a table across from him. His eyes are hooded and his expression is hard. He glances up to see Sam waking, before returning his eyes to his work. "Don't try to get out, there's a circle of holy oil surrounding you and if you so much as twitch, I light it up." Dean mentions, without looking up from his guns.

"How are you doing this?" Is the first question out of Dean's mouth.

"Doing what?" Sam asks, confusion is clearly evident on his face.

"You know damn well what you're doing." Dean growls, setting the gun in his hands down onto the table and pushing himself up. In two strides he's in front of Sam. Dean takes a hold of Sam's jaw and pulls his face forward. Glaring into his eyes he continues. "How are you pretending to be him? I tried every trick in the book, even tried to banish you, but no dice. So what's keeping you here? Huh?"

"Dean-" Sam starts.

"And don't try an' sell me any crap about how you're really my brother. I'm not buying any of it."

"But it is." Sam explains, eyes pleading for Dean to understand.

"Stop." The demand is accented by Dean ripping his hand away from Sam's jaw. "Stop pretending to be Sam. Okay? I know you're doing this somehow so just—Stop."

"It's _me_ , alright? I swear Dean it's _me._ Lucifer sent me here from two-thousand-and-nine. He wanted to show me that no matter how hard I tried… he'd still get me to say yes. That no matter what, I'd fail." Sam lowered his eyes before casting them back up to look at his brother. Taking the moment to study his face and see the tiredness in it from years of dealing with, well, the devil. "I swear, it's me, Dean. It's Sam. I mean, you already did all of the tests. It's _me._ "

"You expect me to believe that crap? Well I don't. So try again."

"Is Cas here?" Sam asks instead.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Dean wonders.

"If he's here, you can go get him, and he'll be able to tell you if I'm me. Right? Won't hurt anything. You can even light the holy oil while you go get him, so I can't escape." Sam explains, "please. Just give it a chance."

Dean nods. Flicking open a lighter and dropping it onto the flames, before stepping out into the light of day.

He returns fairly quickly, and Sam is surprised to see the state Cas is in. His eyes widen. The man before him is scruffy, in more ways than one. Most obviously stoned, Cas's scruff is well overgrown, and his hair is unkempt. Also, the trench coat ensemble that Sam has gotten used to has been replaced with a loose button up shirt and a torn pair of jeans.

Sam scoffs uncomfortably, "I asked you to go get Cas, man… not um," Sam tries to lift his arm to gesture towards the much changed Castiel, but fails before realizing he's still chained down.

"Yeah, funny." Dean replies, obviously not amused.

"Dean, could you?" Cas asks, eyeing the ring of flame surrounding Sam. Dean nods curtly and douses the fire with what Sam knows to be a flask of holy water.

When Castiel approaches the room is silent, and the tension is thick in the air. He puts one hand on either side of Sam's head, and stares intently into the other man's eyes. Cas sighs, before pulling back and turning towards Dean.

"You better unchain your brother, here." Cas tells him, "I'm sure he's pretty uncomfortable." He pats Dean's shoulder before starting on his way back to wherever it was Dean took him from.

"You mean it's…" Dean asks, face painfully blank.

"It's Sam, and from what I can tell, a few years prior to now." Cas confirms. Dean lets out a puff of air before taking a step toward his brother. "I'll give you guys, I don't know a moment or whatever." Cas says, before leaving.

"Been a while." Dean starts. His face still emotionless and voice low. He takes another step toward Sam, before pulling a set of keys out of his pocket. "Hell, I haven't talked to you in, well five years." He gets to work on the cuffs and they fall to the floor with a clang.

"So you never—I mean, I made good on my word to stay gone, then?" Sam breathes, keeping his eyes down to avoid his brother's gaze.

"You could say that." The ankle shackles go, and Dean gives Sam room to stand up. When he rises, the façade on Dean's face falls. Suddenly and surely Sam is engulfed in a pair of arms. "Too damn long." Dean whispers into Sam's ear, before pulling back and holding him at arms-length. "Worst mistake I ever made was thinking that splitting up, being apart would be better for you than keeping you close. I mean, that's what we did and now the world's gone to hell in a hand basket."

Sam huffs, then nods. "You wanted to keep me on a leash, you mean. What, it's been five years since we last talked and you're still bitter?"

"You did _this_ to the damn world Sam and you expect me not to be a little bitter? Hell Sam, I'm _pissed._ " Dean replied, raising his voice slightly.

"Shoot Dean, tell me how you really feel." Sam bit out.

"You said yes to the Devil Sam!" Dean broke.

"No, I didn't." Sam whispered, "He did. I don't know when, and I don't know why. But he's not me. Not yet." Sam pushed past his brother, and in his fury, Dean let him.

Then came the gun shot.


	3. Chapter 3: Facts and Family

Chapter 3: Facts and Family

AN: Hey again! I hope you guys are enjoying the story so far! This chapter starts out with a little look into 2009 just so you know. Thanks for reading and I wouldn't mind if you dropped a review every now and then, I do love to hear from you :)

-GNS-

 _2009_

The call came early that morning. He was just barely waking from the foggy haze of sleep when ACDC started playing from its speakers. He had assumed it was Sam, if their conversation from last night was anything to go by. A quick glance at the glowing screen revealed otherwise.

"Hey Cas," Dean answered tiredly, "What is it this time?"

"Do you know the whereabouts of your brother?" Castiel asked, his voice rough like gravel.

"No Cas, and I'd rather not you tell me. We're currently practicing that whole 'time apart' thing that I told you about. Remember?" Dean replied, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"I could not tell you even if you wished to know, Dean. That is why I called. Your brother cannot be found." Cas continued.

"Isn't that kinda the point of the Enochian sigils you carved into his ribs?" Dean sighed, massaging the back of his neck where a headache was beginning.

"There are other means of finding you if one only has the patients to look, Dean." Cas explained, "There have been no signs of your brother anywhere for at least the last eight hours." I was wondering if maybe you had a clue of where he had gone. Statistically there are only two viable options for his disappearance." Castiel paused, his vessels breath creating a sound akin to static over the quiet line. "One, he is simply hiding out in a highly warded place. Such as a cabin secluded from people as well as any supernatural methods of finding him."

"And the second?" Dean wondered, interest peaked slightly.

"The second is that he is dead. There is no sign of him in heaven, however. For there has been no talk of the angles about the matter. The much more likely scenario is that he is deep inside of Hell." Cas stated. "However, these are just the two most likely options. For instance, he may just not be in our plane of existence any longer."

"What does that even mean?" Dean pushed. He was sitting on the edge of his motel bed now, the phone pressed tightly against his ear.

"Well, that he was sent to another dimension, for example. Or, as time is fluid and not linear, that he is in a different year all together." Castiel clarified, "however it is highly unlikely. And even if it was, it could not have been any mere angle that transported him."

"What are you saying Cas. That it was Lucifer who did this?" Dean inquired. His free hand gripped the bedding tightly. The sound of his own pulse was beating in his ears. He was fully awake now, and more alert than he was after his first cup of coffee.

"It is most probable, yes."

 _2014_

Dean ran. He couldn't form a coherent thought other than _sammynoogodpleasesammy_ Five years past and every other piece of crap that came between them and it all comes rushing back in a second. There was a gunshot. Sam had run out into the day like he owned the place and then there was a gunshot. Nobody here except a token few, Cas and Chuck for example, would know who he was to Dean. And all others who knew the face—

"Stop!" The single word echoes through the rows of cabins and down the gravel road. Wallace, one of the field hunters, is standing over Sam, gun in hand. Sam is on the ground, a pool of blood beneath him. People have stopped now, and are staring. Shooting someone in cold blood is a common sight around the camp. Dean running out of a cabin frantic, however, is not.

"But Dean-" Wallace starts, "It's the devil."

"He's my brother, damn it." Dean growled, pushing Wallace out of the way then kneeling down to check the wound. "Hey Sammy? You okay?" Dean asks, putting pressure on the bloody mess that was Sam's shoulder.

"Just a flesh wound," Sam chuckled sickly, "'ve had worse." He tries to stand before Dean stops him.

"It doesn't matter if you've had worse, you were just shot. Take a minute, put some pressure on your damn bullet hole, and let me patch you up. Alright?" Dean says, staring Sam straight in the eye.

"A second ago you were saying how I flushed the world down the crapper, and now you want to play doctor with me? Hey, maybe if you let me bleed out, I'll die here and then the devil won't have anyone to play dress up with." Sam spit out, sarcasm dripping off his every word.

"You're my brother Sam, nothing changes that. I'm not gonna watch you die. Not then, not now, not _ever._ Get that?"

"Yeah, I got it. Now help me up." Sam grumbled, shifting to the side Dean was on, and offering out his arm.

Dean pulled his brother up by his good arm, before leading him back to the cabin the came from, and sitting him down in the chair Dean was cleaning guns in before. "We gotta get that shirt off, and you won't be moving that arm any time soon, so we'll have to cut it." Dean said, tugging at the sleeve.

Chuck came running in, then, supplies in hand. "I heard you needed-" He cut off quickly when he saw Sam's face. "Is that?"

"It's Sam." Dean confirmed, grabbing the first aid kit and popping it open.

The pieces of blood stained shirt fell away easily enough. With each shredded piece came another memory of another time he'd done this before. Dean once again found himself thinking about everything between them. And he wondered why he ever let himself forget why he was fighting in the first place.

Dean dug out the bullet, sewed together the whole in Sam's skin, and patched him up with more gauze than he could afford to use with how the rations were going these days.

"Here," Dean said, pulling out a pill bottle from his pocket, "I nicked them from Cas's stash a while back. They'll help with the pain." A smirk played on his face.

"I think I'm good," Sam replied.

"Suit yourself little brother. I got a few things to take care of right now, but feel free to… explore." Dean offered, placing a few gentle pats on Sam's uninjured shoulder before heading out.

A small smile lingered on his lips all the way out the door.


	4. Chapter 4: A Series of Explanations

AN: Wow. It has been a long time, and I'm sorry for that. I hate to be one of those people who get half way through a story and then never update, but I have defeated my six-month stint of writers block and this story will live to see another day. This is for all of you loyal supporters who stuck in it for the long haul.

Chapter 4: A Series of Explanations

Sam took a quick turn around the room, taking in everything at once. He was in the future—a future made crap by yours truly, and everyone there was a little bitter to say the least. The angry red bullet hole in his arm was proof enough of that. Even Dean, after all of that pep talk about how "we're brothers", was still angry. Sam understood why, he would be angry too… probably, if Dean decided he wanted to take a shit on the world.

He thought quickly about how much everything had changed. The world was in ruin, even Cas seemed to be a shell of his older self. And to think that all of this, everything was because of him, well it sure did weigh on Sam's conscious. If the devil was right, this was soon to be the fate of his own time. Sam was praying that Lucifer was wrong, but the longer he was here, the more he feared that Lucifer was much the opposite.

Hoping to rid himself of those thoughts, Sam made his way over to a stone fireplace at the opposite end of the room, where some photos were framed and sitting on the mantle. One seemed to be of the camp he was at. Picking it up and studying the faces of the men, Sam noticed Bobby, sitting in his wheelchair near the bottom of the group. He hadn't seen Bobby yet, and Sam made a note to himself to remember to ask Dean. He put the picture back in its place and instead scanned some book titles on the shelf nearby. Deciding to sit down and rest, Sam chose up a book to read. Slowly he sunk down, relaxing back in his chair he did so, and read, until Dean returned sometime later.

The cabin door opened with a creek, it's hinges were long past need of being oiled, as Dean came inside. "Hey." He started, head down as he rummaged through a canvas bag he was holding. "Brought you some brew and some food." Dean set a can of beer on the table next to Sam, leaving the various canned goods in the bag and setting it on the floor instead. "I was hoping we could talk."

"Yeah?" Sam asked, fiddling with the edge of his page. "Hey, where's Bobby?"

"He died a couple years back," Dean said. "He caught the virus, he went into a hot zone without even realizing it, I had to put him down."

"I'm sorry." Sam breathed, closing his book and setting it down. "You shouldn't have had to do that."

"It's over now," Dean answered, seeming hardened on the subject. "Look, I was hoping we could talk seriously for a second." Sam motioned for him to continue. "It's obvious that you were brought her for a reason."

"Yeah, if that reason was for Lucifer to convince me to give up," Sam mumbled.

"Either way, a reason. So I was thinking we could find a way to make the best of this. You just have to hear me out, alright?" Dean waited for Sam to reply, but was satisfied by his remaining silent. "You basically ended the world, Croatoan virus broke out, natural disasters are a daily occurrence, destruction is more common that rain in Washington now a day. My world? Is done for. Yours on the other hand, yours can still be saved."

Sam nodded, listening.

"You were too weak the first time around. I bet the first time he came around with a threat instead of some form of bribery you were packing your bags. I was willing to die instead say yes to that sonuva' bitch Michael. If I had known how easily you folded, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. Hell, I have screamed myself hoarse trying to say yes now, but I'm too late. If you hadn't said yes—you have to not say yes. You need to be willing to die instead of letting the Devil in, if not your world is gonna-"

"I did." Sam cut in.

"Did what?" Dean sighed, frustrated.

"I died." Sam explained. "I would have rather died then said yes. So I did."

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, searching Sam's face as if some other answer was hidden there in his expression.

"The devil started visiting me in my dreams. Bribing me with bringing Jessica back to life, anything. I wasn't going to say yes. I couldn't say yes. So I killed myself. I slit my wrists, he brought me back to life. Overdosed, he brought me back to life. Put a bullet through my brain, he brought me back to life. Did all three at the same damn time Dean, he brought me back to life. I knew what a danger I was to the world. I knew, and I told myself I would never, ever say yes. So I don't know what finally made me do it- but it had to be worse that death. I can promise you that." Sam finished, with a huff.

Dean stared, eyes wide. "You—Sam you could have…"

"Could have what, Dean? Called? You said it yourself, you haven't spoken to me in five years. I did call, and then you told me to stop calling," Sam's voice was steady and calm.

"I didn't know," Dean insisted. "But trust me Sam, whatever it was, it wasn't worth this."


End file.
